


You Take My Breath Away

by diddlydang



Series: The Ferdibert Collection [5]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Dorothea and Ferdie are best friends and you cant change my mind, Getting Together, Hanahaki Disease, Hurt Ferdinand, M/M, Protective Hubert, Temporarily Unrequited Love, Unrequited Love, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-09
Updated: 2019-10-05
Packaged: 2020-10-13 10:30:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20581058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/diddlydang/pseuds/diddlydang
Summary: The first time it happens, he’s alone.One second he is writing some reports and the next he can’t breathe, lungs refusing to cooperate with his mouth, and the quill in his hand snaps at the suddenness of it, ink spilling all over his desk.And just as quickly as it came, it passes.Ferdinand is left staring down at a ruined report, heaving in great gulps of air.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi im back with more ferdibert
> 
> you cant tell me you're surprised by this

* * *

The first time it happens, he’s alone. 

One second he is writing some reports and the next he can’t breathe; lungs refusing to cooperate with his mouth, the quill in his hand snaps at the suddenness of it, ink spilling all over his desk. 

And just as quickly as it came, it passes. 

Ferdinand is left staring down at a ruined report, heaving in great gulps of air. 

\---

The second time it happens it's much, _much _worse. 

The skirmish they had gotten into had just ended and he feels his lungs seize up, but it’s _painful this_ time.One of his hands clutches his chest in panic and the other clasps at his throat. The jerky, panicked motions mean he has let go of the reins of his mount, and he collapses to the ground, trying to breathe. 

His lungs refuse. 

Ferdinand wheezes, trying to force air in but nothing relieves him. He wonders about how long he can last without breathing. 

The thought scares him. 

And then it’s gone, whatever had twisted in his chest, whatever had happened, loosens and he can breathe. He lies on his back, motionless except for the rapid up and down of his chest. His muscles ache and he’s lightheaded. 

“Ferdinand!”

People are saying his name but it feels like he’s underwater, voices muddling together in his ears. 

“Look at me!” Hubert’s face swims in his vision. “Ferdinand!”

Ferdinand blinks up at him, staring dumbly at the mage. Hubert glares down at him. 

“Oh. Hello Hubert.” He greets, not all there “Quite the battle, yes?”

“What just happened?” Hubert demands, eyebrows furrowed. Ferdinand wants to reach up and smooth them out. 

“I’m not quite sure. It appears I lost my breath.” Ferdinand moves his hands behind him, heart jumping when Hubert moves to help him up. “Thank you.”

“You looked like you were being strangled.” Hubert says dryly, “I don’t think ‘lost your breath’ is the right phrase.”

“No.” Ferdinand agrees, thinking back to how he thought he was going to die. “No, it isn’t.”

“Are you ill?”

“I am as healthy as a horse,” Ferdinand tells him, patting his horse fondly once he’s back on his feet. Hubert’s hands linger on him for a second before pulling away. 

“You choking on the ground doesn’t spell healthy, Ferdie.” Hubert glances at where Ferdinand had collapsed before he looks at his horse, contemplative. Ferdinand doesn’t like it when Hubert looks like that, it means he’s planning something. Something that will either piss him off or embarrass him. 

What he does is embarrass him, which is good because Ferdinand doesn’t really feel like getting angry right now. Hubert gets on top of Ferdinand’s horse and holds a hand out to Ferdinand expectantly. He blinks at it like an idiot. 

Hubert’s fingers twitch. “Get on.”

“That’s my horse.”

“I don’t trust you to ride by yourself after that pitiful display.” Hubert says impatiently. “Come on.”

Ferdinand grabs his hand and takes a seat behind Hubert, wrapping his arms around his waist. Being this close to Hubert is doing bad things for his heart. “I could have ridden back on my own.”

“I doubt it.”

“This is embarrassing.” Yeah, Ferdinand’s face was definitely burning. “Truly. You are a cruel man.”

“I am a friend--” The word both comforts Ferdinand and stings. “--Who is concerned for your well-being. And said friend is going to make sure you visit the infirmary.”

“Fine,” Ferdinand says before tightening his grip, bringing himself closer to Hubert. 

No one said he couldn’t enjoy himself. 

\---

Manuela is stumped by what he describes, which does little to soothe his poor heart. Hubert also looks unhappy, clearly expecting something better than, “We’ll just have to wait and see.”

Ferdinand also dislikes it, seeing as how he would rather go the rest of his life without feeling like that ever again, but he nods and thanks her. 

Hubert walks him to his room but doesn’t say anything. Ferdinand supposes he’s still upset that Manuela couldn’t figure out what happened. 

His concern touches Ferdinand. 

He resolutely ignores the butterflies in his stomach at the thought. 

\---

The third time it happens, Ferdinand is not ashamed to say he was fucking terrified. He is woken up suddenly by a vice clamping down over him, like someone has stuffed cotton down his throat. 

This is not what scares him.

No, what scares him this time is along with the whole no breathing business, he has to cough. Coughs that wrack his whole frame and hurt his body with every one. 

Still, this is not what scares him. 

What scares him is that when it passes --and he knows it took even longer to pass this time --is that his hand has blood on it. The hand he had been covering his mouth with has _blood on_ it. 

It’s not a lot. Only a couple of drops. 

But he can taste it in his mouth for the rest of the week, no matter how much tea he downs. 

\---

The fourth is when he knows it’s hanahaki. 

The fourth is when the petals start coming up. 

He’s next to Hubert in the dining hall, surrounded by all their friends when he feels it coming, the now-familiar pinch deep in his body. 

“Excuse me.” He says, getting up. No one bats an eye at him, unassuming.

He nearly hacks up a lung in the bathroom, the handkerchief he has with him stained red with blood splatters from his coughing. Then it happens. 

He coughs and coughs and _coughs until_ whatever was coming up his throat is out, and he looks on in horror at the petals in his hand. 

It is in this moment Ferdinand knows he is going to die. 

\---

He is ashamed to admit it but he starts avoiding everyone after that. 

Hubert especially. 

He still sees all of them, participating in the meetings and whenever Edelgard summons him, but there is no more tea time with Hubert, no more training with Caspar, or gossiping with Dorothea. 

Most days, he hides in his room. Petals are beginning to fill up his waste bins and he is burning through handkerchiefs. 

Whenever he is questioned about his new closed-off behavior, he tells them he’s busy and then they leave, because of course Ferdinand von Aegir would be busy. 

So his secret his safe. 

\---

And then it is not safe because Dorothea barges in his room during one of his coughing fits, concern turning into horror as his wide eyes meet her, bloodied lips with hands frantically moving to hide bloodied petals.

“Ferdie…” She breathes out. “You have hanahaki? That’s why you’ve been so distant?”

“I… yes.” He sighs, dropping the petals into the basket. “I am sorry.”

“I’m sorry.” She sits on the bed next to him, guiding his face to her chest and holding him, hands running through his hair softly. He lets out a rattly breath, enjoying the feeling of his hair being played with. “It’s Hubert, isn’t it?” 

He closes his eyes and listens to her heartbeat. “Yes.”

Her fingers smooth out the tangles, gentle in their ministrations. “Maybe he--”

“Please, Dorothea.” He whispers into her clothes. “Do not make me talk about this.”

He feels her breathing hitch and he is pressed closer to her. Her cheek settles on his head. “Okay, Ferdie. Alright.”

She sleeps in his bed with him that night. 

If they both shed tears, that is their secret. 

\---

Dorothea stays by his side for the most part. 

He is used to her coming in and laying on his bed, talking about everything and nothing while he wastes away in his chair, ruining countless of his papers with bloodied hands. 

She is a good friend, one he will miss dearly. 

\---

Despite his condition, Ferdinand still has a role to fill in the army. So whenever it gets to be late in the night, when no one will be up or near the library, he goes there. 

Or at least, that’s how it normally went. 

“You are up astonishingly late.” Hubert’s voice slinks out of the shadows. Ferdinand doesn’t bother turning away from his book. “I rarely see you out and about these days.”

“I am a busy man.” Ferdinand offers, the words stale. “You know that.”

“You used to make time for people.” Hubert counters. A hand comes to rest on his shoulder and Ferdinand jumps at the contact. Hubert doesn’t pull away though, his grip tightens slightly. “Everyone is worried about you.” 

Ferdinand is selfish and pretends Hubert says ‘I was worried about you.’ 

He feels pathetic. 

“I am fine.” He flips a page, eyes looking over the words but not reading. “They do not need to be worried over me.”

“This is not like you.”

“We are at war. I do not have the luxury for maintaining such routines.”

The fingers digging insistently into his shoulder grab more and suddenly Ferdinand is jerked to the side and facing Hubert. 

“Something is wrong.” Hubert’s eyes bore into his, a deep frown on his face. “You’ve never talked like this before.”

“Perhaps I am tired.” Ferdinand turns his head back to his book when a hand cups his cheek and makes him look back at Hubert. “Hubert, is this really necessary?” 

He can feel the petals filling his lungs like a heavy poison sits in someone's veins. 

“You are not yourself.” Hubert’s thumbs stroke over his cheek and it’s too_ much._ Ferdinand grabs his wrist and wrenches the hand off his face. The look of shock on Hubert’s face hurts Ferdinand to see. 

“I have work I need to do.” He removes Hubert’s other hand and turns back to his book, heart beating erratically, the longing in his chest burning. 

Hubert is still beside him for a couple more moments and then he leaves. 

Once the footsteps are out of the library, Ferdinand coughs. 

And coughs. 

And _coughs_.

He pushes the book away from him, keeping the yellowed pages from turning red.

All he can think about is the look on Hubert's face when Ferdinand grabbed ahold of his wrist and practically threw it off. 

He wants to throw up. 

\---

Hubert doesn’t approach him again after that. 

\---

Edelgard asks him to stay behind after a meeting. 

Hubert is the last to leave and Ferdinand doesn’t miss the look both he and Edelgard share. It hurts him to watch. 

“You have changed.” She says, eyes steely but face gentle. “I don’t like the new you, Ferdinand.”

“I have not changed that much.” The lies slithers through his teeth, feeling slimy. 

“You only ever leave your room for these meetings. Or you spend late nights in the library, as Hubert tells me.” _ Of course Hubert told you, _ he thinks bitterly, _ he tells you everything._ “Whatever is happening in your life, get over it. We need Ferdinand back, not…” She looks over him, mouth turned down. “Not whoever this is.”

He can’t the spark of anger he feels at her words. “I am Ferdinand.” He stands up. “I apologize if you don’t like it, but people change, Edelgard.”

“This change is not one you should make permanent.” She warns him, tone icy. “I remember when you were out talking to everyone every day. Now we are fortunate if even one of us catch a glimpse of you.”

“There is a cost to everything.” A cough bubbles at his lips and he struggles to stop it. “Everything.” He repeats, turning around and coughing into his hand. He retreats quickly, not looking back at her. 

He does not see her face crumple, does not see the petal he fails to catch, does not see Edelgard pick it up and stare.

He also doesn’t see Hubert standing in the shadows outside the door in his hurry to his room. 

\---

He stops going to the meetings after that. 

\---

His condition is getting worse. 

His hands constantly shake, sometimes they twitch violently, fingers cramping up like roots are curling around them. His breathes are always wheezy, voice hoarse from coughing. He can no longer stomach drinking tea because it can’t drown the floral taste on his tongue. 

He resorts to coffee, which tastes bitter for reasons other than flavor.

Other people knock on his door, but he doesn’t unlock it unless it’s Dorothea. Caspar comes by pretty often, Petra too. They are each turned away. 

He thinks he hears Edelgard’s heavy shoes outside his door a few times, but she never says anything. 

\---

The slam of his door wakes him up, he pulls the dagger he has under his pillow and sits up, relaxing when he sees Hubert’s frame in his doorway and then tensing back up because it’s _Hubert._

“You have hanahaki.” Hubert says. 

Ferdinand swallows uncomfortably, the taste of flowers burning his throat. “I-- Why do you say that?”

“I heard your coughing outside the library. And I was there when Edelgard talked to you." He looks around, obviously taking in the mess of a bedroom, wilted petals scattered about the ground. "You dropped one when you left."

“Oh.” Something uncomfortable settles in his gut. “I see.”

“That’s all you have to say?” Hubert snaps at him, stalking towards him. His steps falter when Ferdinand flinches, but he doesn’t stop. 

A violent shudder wracks through him and he cannot stop the pained gasp that he lets out before more petals come up, accompanied by full camellia flowers, pink darkened into a red. He stares down at it before another coughing fit seizes him. 

There are hands in his hair, long, skinny fingers, so unlike Dorothea’s soft ones, carefully holding his hair out of his face as he keeps coughing. 

“Who is it?” Hubert asks him once he’s done and resting on his shoulder. He’s still stroking his hair, the comfort so warm and familiar he wants to cry. “Who has done this to you?”

“I did this.” He mumbles. “I am a fool.”

“They are a fool for not loving you,” Hubert says angrily, holding Ferdinand tighter against him. “This isn't your fault.”

Ferdinand huffs out a laugh, wincing when it upsets his shredded throat. “That’s funny.” He slurs out, exhaustion bearing down on him, limbs heavy. 

“I don’t see how.” Hubert’s voice washes over him. He still sounds angry. Ferdinand likes that he’s angry over him dying. It’s a horrible pleasure, but it’s one of the only ones he has left to indulge in. “I cannot possibly see how that was funny.”

Ferdinand could tell him now that he’s dying because he loves Hubert too much. That his affection is suffocating, that he’s drowning in how he feels for him. 

He doesn’t tell him, but he could. 

\---

Now that Hubert knows he’s dying, he’s practically glued to Ferdinand’s side. 

It’s nice, except it’s making everything worse. 

Dorothea comes by when Hubert’s there once, and Ferdinand feels awful when he sees the hopeful look in her eyes wither and die when he coughs up more flowers and petals. 

“How many people know now?” She asks instead, sitting on the bed next to Hubert, who’s offering Ferdinand yet another handkerchief.

“You and Hubert.”

“Edelgard does,” Hubert says quietly before looking at Dorothea. “How long have you known?”

She glares at him. “Longer than you.”

Ferdinand is suddenly regretting letting her in. 

Hubert glares back at her. “Pardon?”

“You heard me. I’ve known for weeks.”

Hubert turns to Ferdinand now, the hurt on his face not obvious, but it’s there. “Why didn’t you tell me?” 

“You don’t have to answer that, Ferdie.” Dorothea interrupts smoothly. 

Ferdinand wasn’t planning on answering, so it works out. 

Hubert is brooding down, glancing between both him and Dorothea. It makes Ferdinand uneasy. 

Hours later, Dorothea leaves, giving Hubert the stink-eye.

“Is it her?” Hubert asks once she’s gone. 

Ferdinand splutters, “What? No!”

“Mm. I didn’t think so.” Still, Hubert looks a little pleased by the answer. Then he’s back to frowning. “Who is it?”

“I’m still not telling you.

The sound Hubert makes is an interesting mix of frustration and anger. 

\---

It is a couple of days later when it all finally comes to a head. 

He is going to die in a couple of days, this is a fact. He can feel it now. The shortness of breath, times when he just can’t take in air are coming more and more frequently now. He can no longer write thanks to the constant tremor in his hands. Before he had never been prone to panic attacks, he hadn’t had one in years, but he’s set off often now, by easy things. The pounding of his heart is always in his ears, it feels like the cheering of a crowd at the end of a race. 

Only the finish line is his death. 

It’s late at night, still the only time he comes out of his room, and he’s sitting at his and Hubert’s old tea table, the one that was unofficially theirs. He’s contemplating his life, as those who are at their end are bound to do when he hears rapid footsteps and he’s hauled out of his seat and face to face with a rather frantic looking Hubert, black hair mussed and red eyes. 

Ferdinand is about to ask him, `What's wrong?’ when chapped lips are covering his and--

He’s not quite sure what to do.

So he does nothing. 

Hubert pulls back after a few moments, but he’s still close. His thumbs are rubbing circles into Ferdinand’s hips, and Ferdinand's own hands are clutching at his cape, fisting the material.

“I love you.” Hubert says. 

Ferdinand‘s brain processes the words. 

He processes some more, then he gapes at Hubert, eyes wide. Hubert smiles back, a timid thing that wobbles. 

“Y-You..I-I-” Are the eloquent words noble Ferdinand von Aegir musters up as the man he loves confesses. “Me?”

“Yes, you.” Hubert leans his forehead against his, nudging his nose gently. “It’s always been you. It killed me to think you loved someone so much that you were going to die over it. That I could never hope for a chance with you.”

“How did you know?” He breathes out. 

Hubert winces a little. “Ah, Dorothea yelled at me. Said I was a horrible person for doing this for you. It seemed she was under the impression I had rejected you.”

“Oh.”

“Quite.” Hubert’s laugh fans over his face. “I had been wondering why she was being so incredibly hostile towards me.”

“Her anger is a sight to behold.”

“It is.” He feels Hubert’s hands flex from where they rest, “Do you… feel better?” 

He had been so wrapped up in Hubert he hadn’t even noticed the clarity in his lungs. He takes a deep breath, amazed at the feeling of a full breath after weeks of painful sips of air. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt better, darling.”

Hubert kisses him again and Ferdinand can feel the smile on his lips. It causes their teeth to clash a couple of times, both of them grinning into the kiss, but he wouldn’t change it for the world. He presses closer, moving a hand up into Hubert’s short hair, relishing in the way Hubert’s arms tighten around him, holding him close. He sighs into Hubert, giddy over how his breath doesn't catch.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember when I said I was adding a Hubert Hanahaki chapter?
> 
> Well, here it is.

He knew this was going to happen. From the moment he realized how much he loved Ferdinand he _ knew _it.

The first time a petal comes up, all he can do is laugh. Then he crushes it in his fist, burning it into ashes.

_ Of course _ . He thinks, watching the smoke rise from between his clenched fingers. _ Of course. _

\---

Hubert employs perhaps the best method for dealing with unpleasant business and it’s called ‘‘ignoring the problem.”

It’s not yet severe enough to where it will keep him from his duties and it’s also where no one suspects anything other than a slight cough. He knows the early stages are manageable. He won’t be hindered in any way. 

The worst part of it right now is the concerned looks he gets from people, but those are quickly stopped with a quick glare. 

He still attends meetings, finishes his paperwork, takes care of Lady Edelgard, has tea with Ferdinand. 

Nothing changes, except the feeling of pressure building in his lungs. 

He ignores it. 

There are important matters for him to attend to, after all. 

\---

“You seem sick, Hubert.” Edelgard says. 

“It is nothing of consequence, Your Majesty.” He reassures her. The words get stuck in his mouth as if they carried thorns that dragged up his throat, refusing to be said. “Only a minor cough.”

She doesn’t buy it. Perhaps he’s lied to her too many times and this is his penance. 

“Have you spoken to Linhardt? Manuela?” 

“I know what ails me.” He says, “There is no need in wasting their time. It’s being taken care of.”

Purple eyes narrow and scrutiny him. He stares back calmly, shoving back the slow seizing he can feel in his chest, the now-familiar pull in his lungs. 

The pain is bearable. 

“Retire for the rest of the night.” She settles on, mouth turned down unhappily. “I won’t have you working while you're sick.”

“I can work--”

“You can, but you don’t _have_ to, Hubert. Get some rest.” Then she gives him a small smile, “And tell Ferdinand that you’ll be fine. He was terribly worried about your well-being earlier.”

The mention of his name only causes the roots in him to twist harder, dig a little deeper into him. “It’s impossible to get that man to stop worrying.” Still. Ferdinand’s empathy was one of the things that became so incredibly endearing to Hubert. 

“I know. Goddess knows I tried to get him to stop. I assured him you were fine but he wasn’t very convinced.”

“Of course not.” Hubert sighs, unable to stop the affectionate edge to his tone. Edelgard’s smile gets wider as she undoubtedly hears it. “I’ll talk to him.”

“Good.” She says, voice smug. “I think he may even be waiting for you, Hubert. You two didn’t have time for drinks today, did you?”

Of course she knows how he feels. 

Of course she does. 

“Ah.” He says. “You know.”

She snorts, “Hubert, I have been trying for years to get you to take more frequent breaks. Then you willingly ask me for time off and I hear from Dorothea that you are spending that free-time with Ferdinand. I know you very well, it wasn’t hard for me to figure out.”

“Hmm.” Perhaps he hadn’t been subtle. “If only Ferdinand weren’t so dense.” 

If only Ferdinand returned my feelings, he thinks. If only.

“For someone so open with what he thinks, he’s fairly….” Edelgard trails off.

“Stupid.” Hubert finishes. Brilliant, endearing, hopelessly charming. He would go on but each thought feels as if more flowers are blooming. 

They aren’t, but it’s a constricting phantom pain that he doesn’t care for. 

  


“Yes.” Edelgard nods decisively. “Stupid. But I’m not the one who said it.”

“That would be improper of the Emperor.” He agrees. 

“It may even cause a scandal.” She says solemnly. “Which would be terrible.”

“Indeed.”

“Go tell him that. And let me know how he reacts.”

He bows before heading out to find Ferdinand, only stopping to briefly cough up some petals. 

None of them are bloody yet. 

He still has time. 

\---

Ferdinand is offended by being called stupid and tells Hubert that he hates him dearly and that someone so stupid wouldn’t have been able to guess Hubert’s favorite coffee. 

He’s right, of course. 

Hubert still calls him an idiot.

\---

  


There is a war to finish, one he doubts that will be done before the time his illness turns deadly and sends him to an early grave. 

He cannot allow that to happen, and so he will have to confess. 

Eventually.

Even so, the threat of rejection hangs heavy over him. If Ferdinand doesn’t reciprocate, then he will have to go with the magical option, which is not something he wants. 

To destroy all feelings he has towards Ferdinand? To not be able to feel love or joy or even nuisance towards him? 

It is not something he will allow, not only for his sake but for Ferdinand’s. He knows that both of them cherish the familiar bond they have now, and a complete and sudden emotional detachment from Hubert’s end would have disastrous effects on Ferdie. 

The ideal outcome is obviously Ferdinand returns his feelings, but the chance that Ferdinand doesn’t and it changes everything is…

Hubert is scared. 

It is not something he is familiar with feeling or comfortable feeling. 

It is something that feels strangely like how he feels right before he has a coughing fit. 

\---

“I understand you are completely dependent on caffeine, but you are sick, Hubert. Would you not consider chamomile tea? I know from experience it helps soothe sore throats.” Ferdinand’s giving him those horrible puppy-eyes that he has a hard time refusing. 

“I…” He is not strong enough. “Fine. But I won’t like it.” Ferdinand lights up when at his said, quickly pouring Hubert a cup of tea and handing it over to him. 

“You don’t have to like it,” Ferdinand says happily. “Just drink it.”

The taste of chamomile does nothing to stop the floral taste that’s constantly plaguing his mouth, but Ferdinand was right when it makes his scratchy throat feel better. 

“Well?” Ferdinand asks. His fingers are tapping along the table. “Are you feeling less pain?”

Hubert sets the cup down with a small clink! and raises an eyebrow at Ferdinand. “It hasn’t even been a minute, Ferdie. Give me a moment.”

Ferdinand flushes a beautiful red in his embarrassment, eyes going wide and his fingers freezing in their ministrations. “O-Oh, you’re right. I’m sorry. I’ve just… I’ve been worried about you, Hubert. I’ve never seen you sick before. I cannot say I’m a fan of it.”

The concern warms Hubert’s heart. “I don’t like it either.” He offers. 

That gets a laugh out of the man. “No, I didn’t think so.”

Things go on as normal after that, idle gossip and thoughts about the progression of the war. 

It is everything Hubert cannot let be changed because of his condition.

\---

Everything is fine until blood starts showing up across the flowers, red stains a beautifully terrible look on such delicate things. 

Time is running out.

He will need to confess soon. 

\---

“I would like to--” He has to stop to cough, cursing his white gloves as blood shows on them. “--Like to request leave from battle.”

Edelgard gently grabs his hand and uncurls his fingers. They are both silent as they look down at blood-soaked petals. 

“Hanahaki.” She says like she had known something terrible was going on. She must have, with how well she knows him. “Oh, Hubert…”

“It is being taken care of.” He says. 

“Have you told him yet?” She asks. 

“It is being taken care of.” He says again, for it is all he can say. 

“Hubert.” Edelgard’s voice goes hard. “I will not have you suffering of your own volition. You must say something to him.”

“I know, El.” He sighs. She reaches a hand up and wipes away some blood from his mouth. “I know.”

“Please, Hubert. I can’t lose you to something like this.” 

“I’ll tell him tomorrow.” He replies, before slowly removing his hand from Edelgard’s and hesitantly opening his arms for a hug, not quite sure how to ask for a comfort he’s never asked for before. 

She embraces him without hesitation he showed, it’s stilted, just because of how the two of them are, but at the same time, it feels more real and grounding just because it’s so entirely _ them. _

Even if he must lose Ferdinand because of this, he will always have Edelgard.

\---

It’s the middle of the night when he gathers the nerve to finally tell Ferdie. 

He knocks on the door, waiting patiently until a very sleepy Ferdinand opens it. His hair is delightfully messy from sleep, frazzled in a way Hubert has never seen before. A white sleeping shirt is askew from laying in bed, the top buttons are undone and his sleeves cover the majority of his hands. It may be Hubert’s new favorite look on Ferdinand, so far removed from the poised and put-together persona he normally has. 

“Hubie?” Amber eyes blink blearily at him, a hand coming up to wipe at them. “What’s wrong?”

“May I come in?” He asks, wringing his hands. “I need to tell you something.”

Ferdinand blinks and he seems slightly more awake. “Of course. My room is… ah… It’s messy.”

Hubert mentally makes a note of that. “I don’t mind if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Ferdinand opens the door wide enough for Hubert to step through. He gives a quiet “Thank you,” as he steps inside, looking around the room. True to his words, there are various armor parts littered about the ground, various cleaning oils and clothes along the various countertops. Several books with papers sticking out of them are stacked up on his desk, many burnt-out candlesticks put shoved aside. 

He had never expected Ferdinand’s room to be a complete mess. 

It’s equally adorable and frightening because he’s thinking about if this _ does _ work out his room will likely get more cluttered if Ferdinand is so completely disorganized with his personal life. 

Ferdinand must catch what he’s looking at because he sounds embarrassed when he speaks. “Uh...Is there anything I can say to make it seem better?”

“No,” Hubert chuckles. “No, I’m afraid the damage is done.”

“Then I suppose I won’t have to clean it for you.”

_ I won’t have you change yourself for me, _ Hubert thinks. 

“I can endure your messy room for a little longer.” He says. 

Ferdinand gives out a laugh, more of a breath really, and sits down on his bed. Hubert stands beside him, hovering awkwardly before Ferdinand pats the area next to him. 

“What’d you want to speak about, Hubie?” Ferdinand asks, the second time Hubert has ever heard the nickname, the second time he has heard it tonight. He must be too tired to realize he’s even saying it. 

“I…” He reaches out and grabs one of Ferdinand's hands in both of his, trying to stop the trembling of his fingers. “I love you. With everything I am, so much that it’s killing me, Ferdie.”

Ferdinand's’ mouth forms a small ‘O’ and that wonderful blush settles over his face again. It’s hard to see in the dim light, but still there, Hubert knows. 

“You… feel the same way?” Ferdinand says. His hand twitches in between Hubert’s. “I thought that I was doomed to love you with no hope of….”

His chest feels lighter than it has in years. “I thought I was the one with no hope of you loving me.”

“Hubie…” Ferdinand shifts in the bed, turning to face Hubert more fully. His movements are clumsy, legs bumping with Hubert many times with more force than he probably realizes. He pulls his hand out of Hubert’s and warm hands cup his face, hands that are calloused from years of handling weapons. He leans into it, relishing the feeling of thumbs stroking over his cheeks. “Goddess, do I love you.”

Hubert adjusts on the bed, pulling Ferdinand to where he’s straddling his lap, strong thighs on both sides of his hips. “Ferdie,” He breathes out, as close to a prayer as a man like Hubert will ever get to. “Ferdie, I _ adore _ you.”

“I should hope so.” Ferdinand leans in, orange hair making a curtain around them. He can feel the small puffs of air Ferdinand lets out against his lips. It’s intoxicating and he can’t hold himself back anymore, he moves one hand from Ferdie’s hip and to the back of his neck and hauls him in for a kiss, cherishing the feel of soft lips against his chapped ones. 

Ferdinand makes a small sound into his mouth, one that Hubert eagerly swallows and continues to kiss him, running his hand through long silky hair, grateful that he left his gloves back in his room. 

They break apart later, Hubert laying kisses on Ferdinand’s neck, unable to keep to himself after months of pining when Ferdinand speaks up, voice breathless, “What made you, ah, finally say something?”

“I was dying. I said that already.” He says. 

“I--What?” Ferdinand stops him. “Care to, I don’t know, elaborate?”

“Hanahaki,” Hubert says impatiently. “I’m cured now. Can we go back to kissing?”

“Hubert!”

“What happened to Hubie?” Hubert has only had the nickname for maybe an hour but he misses it already. “I liked it.”

“That is not what we’re focusing on right now!” Ferdinand says, glaring down at Hubert. It would be scary if Hubert wasn’t Hubert and if Ferdinand could manage a good glare outside of battle. “You were going to die?”

“No. It was either you felt the same or I was going to… remove the infestation.”

“I’m glad you told me before cutting it out,” Ferdinand grumbles. Hubert thinks it’s safe enough to draw him into another kiss.

“That was always the plan.” 

“You’re lucky I love you.”

“Oh, sweetheart, I know.” He says against his lips, tasting Ferdinand instead of the sickly sweet remains of flowers. “I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Idk if any of yall are have been or are in marching band but it gets really difficult to find free time and also i have big writers block rn so :')
> 
> i hope yall liked this little addition uwu
> 
> Ferdinand, weeks later: WAIT! THE COUGH! THAT WAS HANAHAKI?
> 
> Hubert: Youre such a fucking idiot goddammit.

**Author's Note:**

> Im promoting my twitter again its @diddlydang1 if yall wanna uh check that out 👀👀
> 
> Im probably going to add another chapter at some point with Hubie being the one with Hanahaki, so be on the lookout for that :)
> 
> On other news, consider a Hades and Persephone AU
> 
> now its time for what you were all waiting for:
> 
> Edelgard: so I was thinking about asking Ferdinan-
> 
> Hubert: Ill ask him. Give me an excuse to talk to him. I'll beg. 
> 
> Edelgard: You're a fucking gay disaster, Hubert. 
> 
> Hubert: Yea. And?


End file.
